


you're the only friend i need (sharing beds like little kids)

by longhairandbarefeet



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends With Benefits, One Night Stands, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 11:46:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16953417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairandbarefeet/pseuds/longhairandbarefeet
Summary: Jon knows he could blame alcohol, the bottles of beer littering the nightstand, but it’s not a good enough excuse for this situation he has put himself in.akajon and arya have a one night stand with a side of feelingstitle: ribs by lorde





	you're the only friend i need (sharing beds like little kids)

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on tumblr a while ago, and I am late to posting it here, but either way...I hope you enjoy!!! :)

It take’s snapping the buttons of his jeans, and slipping on his black tee shirt to realize that he’s royally and completely fucked everything up. Jon knows he could blame alcohol, the bottles of beer littering the nightstand, but it’s not a good enough excuse for this situation he has put himself in.

 

“Jon?”

 

A small voice spoke from the bed, the very same voice he’s confided in for the last ten years of his life. He looks at her, and he’s smiling because she’s truly a sight. Her hair is framed around her face in thousands of tiny knots, and she has some makeup smeared beneath her eyes from the night before.

 

“Shh, go back to sleep.” He whispers, crouching down to cup her cheek and rub his thumb along the contours. She closes her eyes, moving into his touch, and he breathes deeply because it’s sentiment he’s done hundreds of times, but now it bears more weight, more meaning.

 

“It was fun.” Arya says stoutly, grey eyes focusing on his, and he knows this look she’s giving him. It’s the one she gives him when she’s trying hard to discern his feelings or thoughts about something important. He’s never been able to lie to her, and he’s glad he doesn’t have to start today.

 

“It was very fun.” Jon replies, looking at her and then his hands and then back at her.

 

He’s five years older than her, turning 25 in a few weeks, and he knows he shouldn’t blush like a prepubescent boy when she looks at him the way she is now but he can’t help it. It’s the same way she looked at him last night in this room, her childhood room, when they still had all their clothes on. It’s the look that made him pull her into his lap, tangle his fingers in her dark hair, and kiss her like it’s the only thing he knew how to do. It’s the look that made him strip her naked, and fix his mouth and fingers to every square inch of her, the patches of skin he’s seen, but also the bits he hasn’t.

 

It’s the look that got them into trouble.

 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, Jon.” Arya whispers, and he can hear the way her voice cracks at the end. He knows her just as well as she does him, and he knows that when her voice breaks it means she isn’t telling him the truth. “It could just be for fun.”

 

It’s such a warm proposition, so much so he glances at the empty side of her bed. Thoughts about shedding his clothes, crawling back in, and fucking her until he forgot why it was a bad idea flashes through his mind. It takes only a second to feel the coldness of the situation grip at his chest again, and he shakes his head. He can see that she’s surprised because he never tells her no.

 

She is Arya. She is his past. She is his best friend’s little sister. She is a humid summer night on her parent’s front porch swing. She is dirty feet and a messy ponytail swinging in the backseat of his car, singing along to his scratched Bob Seger CD. She is his present. She is his best friend. She is the barstool at the end of the bar, and the bottle of aspirin in the morning. She is cut off shorts, cheap sunglasses, and long hair whipping across his face from beside him in the passenger seat, singing and dancing to along to her Journey playlist.

 

“No,” Jon says aloud, ignoring the pointed way she is looking at him. He knows he’s letting her down, but he knows it’s better this way. “For a while maybe, but eventually it wouldn’t be only “for fun” with us. But you know that, you have to know that.”

 

She doesn’t say anything, but her expression softens as she nods. It’s a small victory, and he knows he’s not winning the battle raging inside his own head, but he smiles and presses a kiss to her forehead. He lets his lips linger, fall to her cheek, and he presses one there because he can’t help himself.

 

“I have to go, I’ll call you.” Jon says taking a breath, trying to remember how warm she feels and how good she smells, like the vanilla spray she keeps in her car for when she takes a few puffs of her secret pack of cigarettes and the citrus soap in her shower and like last night. “We can fix this, us. I promise. Nothing has to change.” He whispers, wondering just how many promises he’s broken to her now, empty ones about protecting her, or never hurting her.

 

He moves across the room slowly and purposely, but she doesn’t speak until his hand is turning the doorknob:

 

“But what if I want it to?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading. I absolutely love writing them in the modern verse, be on the lookout for more. Comments/Kudos feed my creativity! :)


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